


Rest With Me

by semperama



Series: Tumblr Ficlets - Pinto [7]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-11-29 11:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11440353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperama/pseuds/semperama
Summary: When Chris hears secondhand by way of a text from Zoe that Zach has come down with a bad cold, he considers running for the hills, contractual obligations be damned.





	Rest With Me

When Chris hears secondhand by way of a text from Zoe that Zach has come down with a bad cold, he considers running for the hills, contractual obligations be damned. Zach is an absolute fucking nightmare when he’s sick, and these long press junkets are bad enough without him whining and grumping and generally being the world’s biggest diva. Chris considers throwing himself down a flight of stairs so he can spend the day in a Parisian hospital instead of sitting in front of stupid interviews with a sniffling Zach at his side, but he doesn’t think he could guarantee that he’d just break a leg and not his neck, so he’s pretty much stuck.

The sight of Zach softens him a little bit. Even with all the power of makeup and probably the best medicine money can buy, he still looks miserable. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his nose is red, and his posture is shot to hell, like it’s taking all of his strength just to remain upright at all. He walks across the lobby toward Chris, but he doesn’t seem to actually see him until they are standing right in front of each other. Once their eyes meet, Zach’s lower lip juts.

“Just take me to the top of the Eiffel Tower and push me off,” he says, his voice breaking around each syllable. “Put me out of my misery.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Chris says, but it comes out a little gentler than he meant it to. He flexes his fingers at his side, then gives into the impulse to reach for Zach’s arm—just to keep him from falling over, that’s all. “I promise you’ll live. Now we’d better hustle. We’re running late and the car’s already waiting.”

Zach makes a pitiful whining sound and leans heavily against Chris as they exit onto the street and then duck into the car idling at the curb. Once inside, Zach flops over onto Chris’s shoulder.

“Will you rub my head?” he asks. “I’ve got the worst sinus headache.”

“Rub your…? No, I will not rub your head, Zach. And you better not be getting snot on my shirt right now.” Chris ignores the fact that his fingers have managed to weave themselves between Zach’s on their own, and the fact that his thumb is stroking the heel of his hand. He also ignores the fact that he is making no effort whatsoever to shake Zach off.

“You’re such an asshole,” Zach says mournfully. “I carry your ass through these press things, and you can’t even have a little sympathy for me when I’m dying.”

Chris grits his teeth and pretends not to notice how soft Zach’s hair feels against his cheek. “You’re not dying. But it’s still early in the day. That could change at any moment.” 

Zach snuffles and burrows deeper into his shoulder. “Promises, promises.”

At this point, Chris is sure that his limbs are moving independently of his brain, because he can barely get through an eye roll before he’s lifting his free hand to rub small circles in the center of Zach’s forehead. Zach sucks air through his teeth, and his brow wrinkles under Chris’s fingers.

“Oww,” he whines. “Not so hard.”

“Jesus, you are impossible, you know that?” But Chris’s touch gentles, and a moment later he skims his fingers down the side of Zach’s face to his chin. “I honestly don’t know how I put up with you.”

Zach lifts his head slowly at the coaxing of Chris’s fingers. His eyes are red, and he could definitely use a Kleenex, and as Chris watches, he sniffs hard and brings up a hand to shield Chris from a phlegmy cough. It’s gross. Chris is probably going to get sick now too. He hates this. He hates it.

But then Zach lowers his hand again and grins a shit-eating grin. “You love me.”

“I honestly don’t,” Chris grunts. But he’s probably undermining himself by leaning in and pressing his lips to Zach’s forehead. “You feel warm,” he murmurs against his skin. “Are you sure you can make it through today?”

Zach sighs and slumps down to tuck his face into Chris’s neck. “Maybe I can, if you rub my head some more.”

Chris sighs, but he’s already lifting his hand again.


End file.
